Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

She pulls him out of the water.
SCORPIUS: Miss. I need help. Please, Miss.
DOLORES UMBRIDGE: Miss? I’m Professor Umbridge, the headmistress of your school, I’m no
“Miss.”
SCORPIUS: You’re the headmistress? But I . . .
DOLORES UMBRIDGE: I am the headmistress, and however important your family may be — it
doesn’t give you an excuse to dillydally, to mess about.
SCORPIUS: There’s a boy in this lake. You need to get help. I’m looking for my friend, Miss.
Professor. Headmaster. One of Hogwarts’s students, Miss. I’m looking for Albus Potter.
DOLORES UMBRIDGE: Potter? Albus Potter? There’s no such student. In fact, there hasn’t been a
Potter at Hogwarts for years — and that boy didn’t turn out so well. Not so much rest in peace,
Harry Potter, more rest in perpetual despair. Total troublemaker.
SCORPIUS: Harry Potter’s dead?
Suddenly from around the auditorium, the feel of a breath of the wind. Some black robes
arise around people. Black robes that become black shapes. That become dementors.
Flying dementors through the auditorium. These black deadly shapes, these black deadly
forces. They are everything to be feared. And they suck the spirit from the room.
The wind continues. This is hell. And then, right from the back of the room, whispering
around everyone.
Words said with an unmistakable voice. The voice of VOLDEMORT . . .
Haaarry Pottttter.
HARRY’s dream has come to life.
DOLORES UMBRIDGE: Have you swallowed something funny in there? Become a Mudblood
without any of us noticing? Harry Potter died over twenty years ago as part of that failed coup
on the school — he was one of those Dumbledore terrorists we bravely overthrew at the Battle
of Hogwarts. Now come along — I don’t know what game you’re playing but you’re upsetting
the dementors and entirely ruining Voldemort Day.
And the Parseltongue whispers grow louder and louder. Grow monstrously loud. And giant
banners with snake symbols upon them descend over the stage.
And SCORPIUS is at the horrified heart of it all.